


A Taste for You.

by hollyleighannee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A lot of blood actually., Anal Sex, Blood, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Face-Fucking, God left me long ago., Halloween, I explain in the notes beforehand, I ran out of words for blood., Junkenstein's Revenge AU, M/M, Mentions of several sad things, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-01-12 05:50:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21229436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyleighannee/pseuds/hollyleighannee
Summary: Every year on Hallow's Eve, lust brings Jack Morrison back to Adlersbrunn and into the arms of the accursed called Dracula.





	A Taste for You.

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: There is a lot of blood, blood play, blood drinking, mentions of burning alive, murder, and rape. Other than that, though, this is literally just a huge amount of self indulgent Halloween porn for my own amusement. There's also a huge exposition dump at the very first that I am very apologetic for, but I hope you enjoy!

_Believe that though we never eat_

_We still know how to feed_

_We still know how to bleed, oh_

_Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now_

_My arms, keep you in the room_

_Barely let you move_

_Show me what to do_

_Tonight, we're second guessed again_

_Let me wrap the chains_

_Addicted to the pain_

_Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now_

Years passed, but he returned every single Eve of Hallows upon the sunset.

Fog slunk around the cobblestone streets in thin, whisping tendrils, curling around light posts holding lit candles which flickered eerily in the breeze, twisting through stone archways and lapping against the sides of quaint storefronts, as though it were knocking... knocking... knocking on the doors of the houses, beckoning those hiding within to come forth and join. The town, though, had emptied hours ago, each person ducking into the safest place they could find and ride out the night, for fear of the monsters returning again. No amount of beckoning could draw forth the terrified civilians who knew what was to come - Jack had been back enough to know this as truth.

Fear of the curse forced them deep into hiding for the entire night.

The curse on the town started long ago, far before his own birth. Legend said the fifth lord of Adlersbrunn, a violent man whom cared for no one, wreaked havoc amongst the townspeople for years, killing, raping, pillaging - and no one could stop him, for he had the biggest castle, the largest coin purse, the most influence. The local men who upheld the law looked the other way, pockets lined with blood money, even when the lord set his sights on their pretty young daughters. One such man, someone whomst name was said to be Ziegler, had a beautiful young daughter part of a strange acting troupe in town, their shows often spanned late into the night. The man named Ziegler didn't quite enjoy his daughter's presence in the first place, swearing she was a witch or a demon, because her mother had been a fortune teller before her death.

Everyone considered it the ravings of a lunatic old man.

Thus, when his daughter disappeared one night for several hours, and her friends came knocking at his door, yelling and screaming with panic, he slammed the door in their face and gave it no second thought. When his daughter came back, arm broken, bruises along her jawbone, unable to speak of the horrors she faced at the hands of the lord, he refused to say a word.

His daughter, however, had her mother's blood running through her veins - headstrong, resilient, and ready to fight back. She started a campaign in town, telling everyone what happened, demanding his head in justice. Her words spoke so fervently, her personality and perseverance so bright, her influence began spreading amongst the younger people, and others spoke up against the lord. Soon, they had a large enough group to start a picket outside the castle - word spread to other towns, it was a large enough group to cause quite a stir. Elders told them to watch themselves, they were making a huge mistake, but the Ziegler daughter could not be deterred.

The night before the picket, as she and her troupe sat in their little makeshift theater, someone threw a lit bottle of straight alcohol through their window and ignited the old wood beneath their feet. They ran to all the doors, but each was jammed from the outside. The windows were too small for any of them to climb through, no access to the roof to escape, no one heard their screams.

The legend states the Ziegler daughter put a curse on the town and her friends, then, in the last moments of her life. She stood at the window, peering out at the gathering of townspeople refusing to help them, and screamed words none of them knew, foreign and strange - then, she pointed her arm out the window, the sleeves of her dress on fire. _"We will not die here tonight, but you... you all will die."_

The building burned through the night, and no townspeople died. They breathed a sigh of relief and continued with their day when the final embers burnt out. Little did they know, when the sun set that night, on the Eve of Hallows, a literal Hell broke loose within the confines of their town. Death tore through the streets, blood ran along the cobblestones, picking off whoever was unlucky enough to be on the streets at the time, making their way one by one through the borough.

Until they reached the Ziegler home. For this particular death, a knock came at the door. When the old man answered, he found himself face to face with his daughter, still in her outfit from the acting troupe's Hallow's performance - a witch. Befitting. No burns resided on her face, no scars or scratches. Even her arm was no longer broken. She was alive, despite having watched her burn to death beyond that small window. The rest of the acting troupe stood silently behind her, all alive, all well, all still wearing their costumes.

_"You're alive,"_ he'd said.

_"I said we would not die. We will no longer fear death, as it's hands are not strong enough to carry us,"_ the witch answered.

_"I knew you were a witch,"_ were his last words, as she lurched forward and sunk her teeth into her father's neck, tearing and ripping. When her father screamed for help amidst the attack, no one answered his calls, and he died on the floor of his home, in a pool of blood and gore that could never be scrubbed from the wood.

That night, they killed the fifth lord and left a warning. They would return every year on the anniversary of their murder, killing each lord and exacting revenge for their deaths. Whoever they found on the streets, would fall at their hands.

Their curse held true.

Every year for centuries, they returned in the dense fog, a terrifying sight to be seen.

Most of the lords stayed in their castles, guards hiding them, until the night was over. Other lords found themselves cocky and overconfident, thinking they could put a stop to the curse.

The sixteenth lord gathered heroes to fight the blood drainers and patrol the streets to protect the townspeople. 

That was how he'd first met _him_. 

Pulling the heavy black fabric of his cloak further around his body, he ducked his head against the cold air rushing through the narrow alleyway he slipped into. He knew the shortcut through the back of town in his heart, how he had to pass beneath the bridge and around the small river rippling beneath the cobblestone streets. It felt familiar, as though he were returning home from a long day, not slinking around secretly in a place he'd sworn to protect.

Guilt niggled in his heart, knowing he'd promised his fellow heroes he would do his job and protect - little did they knew, he hadn't been doing his job in the last four years of returning to Adlersbrunn.

The shadow of the bridge passed overhead as he hurried on fast footfalls through the courtyard, growing ever more impatient the closer he came to the meeting place. He could see it already, just ahead. A tall stone tower, abandoned long ago after wars were no longer raged on Adlersbrunn. The perfect meeting place on the silent night, as it overlooked the town and most of the castle; they could both keep an eye on their respective groups.

Not that he spent much time peering out the window during these rendezvous.

Smiling to himself, Jack Morrison ducked into the tower's arching doorway when he grew near, pushing passed a pile of boxes stacked and placed to deter others from sneaking in. Once inside, he pushed the stack back to its original place blocking the door and turned to face the winding staircase...

But paused in his steps.

This was... different...

Following the first Hallows Eve they spent together, Jack returned by payment of the lord with the other ragtag heroes in tow, and had found himself walking into that same alleyway as the year prior. He wasn't sure why his feet carried him there, beyond the fact he simply could not banish the vampire from his mind, the way he picked him up and fucked him against the stone wall, kissed the breath from his lungs, the look of his handsome face and emotional eyes. Something about him called out to Jack's soul, called out to him to return.

The Dracula met him in the alleyway the second year, too, but this time, escorted him to the abandoned guard tower and made love to him right on the floor, then bent over the window. They were together every second of the entire night, uncountable times, and at the end, as Gabriel announced it was time for him and the other cursed to leave, he said, "My name is Gabriel. Will you be back next year?"

Jack remembered staring at him, the answer unsure in his own brain, but his mouth and his heart answered for him. "Yes," he said.

"Then meet me here." Gabriel had kissed him again, leaving him breathless and craving more, before leaving into the darkness.

Each year, he returned.

Each year, the guard tower sat empty and cold, plain, because it wasn't about how pretty it looked or how comfortable. Their rendezvous were about pure, unadulterated lust and naked bodies and sips of blood.

This year, though...

Placed along the the serpentine stone sat lit candles, dripping yellowed wax over the dark masonry; they were also placed in the stain glass windowsills. The array lit the walkway in a golden, warm, flickering glow - dare he call it... romantic looking? Typically the tower sat stark and black, dark as the night, with only the dim glow of the moonlight and a couple lanterns on the top floor.

He'd never seen this before.

However, there was another, smaller part of him that swelled and soared at this sight. Only one person could've lit the candles and placed them so meticulously along the steps. His heart skipped a beat, as excitement bubbled forth effervescently and had him shrugging out of his cloak in record time, taking the stairs two at a time as he ascended on quick, light feet.

Finally, finally, he burst forth, passed the top stair and up onto the top floor.

He took one look around.

And almost fainted.

He couldn't believe it.

If he thought the staircase felt romantic, the top of the guard tower absolutely ripped the breath from his lungs.

Candles encircled every curve of the round room, crowding in big sets in the corners, in the windowsills, atop abandoned boxes. Blood red rose petals scattered along dusty masonry, full stemmed roses were placed in piles in certain areas, near the biggest of the candles. In the center of the room sat the centerpiece, though, the one he couldn't tear his eyes from.

At first, he noticed the blood red velvet throws, rich and decadent, in an intricate pile in the middle of the room. Atop them were several silk pillows of varying colors...

But, that wasn't what took his breath away.

No.

Never.

The man standing amongst all those things rendered him speechless, despite this being the fourth long night spent together. No matter how often he saw this man, imagined this man, dreamed of this man, he couldn't swallow down the butterflies fluttering in his core, couldn't stop the way his heart stuttered to a horrifying stall beneath his ribs.

Tall, dark, and handsome did not begin to cut it. What stood before him resembled a God in the glowing flickers of the two dozen candles. He stood large beside the velvet and silks, black trench coat dragging the floor, trimmed with red silk. Black leather gloves covering large, calloused hands. Dark black breeches snugly curled around thick, massive thighs he wanted wrapped around him. Heavy boots covered in buckles. He found it disgusting how fire immediately shot through him and pooled heavily in his crotch, just with one single peek at him.

People called him a monster in the town. A murderer. Nothing more than a blood drinker hellbent on killing any person in his wake and lap up their gore with a forked tongue.

Jack didn't agree.

They hadn't seen him without his mask.

"You returned," the voice coming from beneath that annoying white theater mask, built to look like a skull and a vampire and a monster mixed in one, sounded full of wonder and gruff, low, rumbling lust.

During their time apart, Jack dreamed of that voice lavishing him. Loving him. Never leaving him. He knew his thoughts to be selfish and sinful, as he'd been haled a hero for so long. The townspeople living in the shadows of the dark castle thought he'd protect them, looked to him and the others for guidance when the curse grew near, expected a certain morality from him.

His morality fell by the wayside long ago.

With the first touch of cold fingers that night four years ago. Jack had been searching the alleyways after hearing someone scream for help; upon turning a corner, he hadn't found a victim, just an empty stone wall staring back at him. A dead end. Before he could turn to leave, he felt those fingers curl around his throat, tightly, almost cutting his air off, but not quite. He knew immediately it was one of the cursed, by the sheer strength alone. He'd immediately tried to fight back, throwing his head backwards until his skull collided with the mask upon his face, and a younger and more naive Jack Morrison twisted when the fingers left his throat and found the most handsome being in the entire world staring back at him.

He thought he'd die that night.

The monster did not attack, though. Instead, wrapped large hands around his waist and dipped him, bringing their mouths together in a cold and fiery kiss, devouring him, scraping sharp teeth against his lips and drawing blood, which he lapped up with a velvety tongue. That night, he felt himself lose his way. Darkness consumed him whole solely on the basis of white hot lust. 

A darkness he craved.

He'd been returning each year since, unable to bring himself to quit the monster they called Dracula.

Jack dropped his cloak on the floor and closed the distance between them slowly. "Did you ever doubt I would?"

"For a moment, yes," he admitted. "Why would _you_ return to _me_?"

"Why do you think I wouldn't?" Coming to stand right in front of him, Jack took a deep, filling breath. He smelled like he usually did. Expensive. Like the kinds of scented oils lords and kings and nobles wore to tout their riches, mixed with leathers and cold, rainy, foggy nights. His mouth almost salivated, as he lifted his hands to the sides of the expressionless white mask.

Carefully, he pulled it off with tingling fingers, revealing what he truly craved.

The most handsome, beautiful, awe-inspiring vision the countryside had ever witnessed. Dark, rich skin, slashed with several white scars through one eyebrow, along a stark cheekbone - rumor had it, he wore the mask because he was the only monster who retained injuries from the murder, but Jack saw no reason to hide his face like that. His jawline was sharp and strong, cut from noble gemstones, facial hair scruffing along the angles and chiseled planes of beauty. Full lips, in his usual down-turned frown, hid what Jack knew to be sharp canines. Deep, dark, serious eyes searched over his face, drinking him in in a way he could only describe as pensive.

He didn't know him as Dracula, like the cursed people did. 

He knew him as Gabriel.

Gabriel.

_Gabriel._ Even the simple utterance of the name struck him like a stake through the heart.

"Why must you insist on wearing this mask?" Jack buried one hand into pitch black, messy locks, hanging over his forehead. The mane felt silky and clean, something unusual for peasants amongst Jack's own bloodlines, but it gave him yet another detail of mysteriousness and extravagance that had Jack chomping at the bit to touch more of him. Strip him. Lay him atop the velvets and beg, beg, _beg_ to be mated into oblivion, sucked dry and ravished until he was shaking and dizzy and couldn't stand for hours.

"Perhaps I like when you release me from it." Gabriel's large, gloved hands came to encircle his waist, pulling him flush against his chest. "Perhaps... I like that first moment, when you see my face and I can smell the blood pumping through your veins-"

His face lowered. Jack gulped, hands shaking, but Gabriel softly nuzzled his face along Jack's jawline and cheek. Cool breath along his ear sent shivers down his spine, made his knees knock together. "Your heart starts pounding," he whispered against the shell of his ear. "Faster... faster..."

Cold lips pressed against his lobe, then lower, to his jugular.

"Your blood beckons me, begs for me." Teeth scraped slowly across milky white skin. Too slow. Too gentle.

Jack wanted him to destroy his frail, human body.

The teeth pulled away for a moment, replaced by a slow swipe of a tongue along his pulse point. "You draw in gasps like you're afraid, but you do not reek of fear like others."

"What..." He swallowed hard, his trembling hands coming up to lay flat against Gabriel's broad chest. "What do I smell like?"

"A fucking _delicacy_."

Jack whined, tilting his head back, stretching his neck bare in a submission he never thought himself capable. "Then drink your fill," he breathed. "As much as you want, Gabriel. Please-"

A ferocious, vibrating growl was the only warning he received before sharp and cold canines broke through skin with a loud _snap_ he heard deep in his own skull. The pain reared up so harshly, he gasped, fingertips clinging desperately for purchase against Gabriel's trench coat - because the first few seconds of agony from each bite could not be described with words.

The only way he could convey the sensation was within his reaction, the way he stiffened, tilted his head back, and whined from deep in the back of his throat, a guttural noise that sounded vaguely like _mmmmngh_. His legs shook beneath him, unsteady and wavering - his entire body was trembling, actually, thumping against Gabriel's rockhard chest with uncontrollable vibrations.

The first few seconds always struck fear in his soul like this, for the briefest of silent moments. He trusted Gabriel with his entire world, his life, his blood, but a small part of him sang in the back of his skull _What if he drinks too much? What if I die in his arms?_ Shit, what a way to die, he thought dreamily. To die in the arms of a man so beautiful... so gentle...

But then, Gabriel's hand came up to caress the side of Jack's face, holding his weight and dipping him slightly - and none of that mattered anymore. He hummed against his jugular and his fingers tightened against his neck, Jack felt the suction against his skin, the wet lips pressed warmly-

Jack immediately fell lax in his grasp. The pain slowly ebbed away into nothingness and his entire body felt as though it were floating. He no longer had a body of his own, no longer existed on the physical plain of the humans hiding out in the buildings all around them, but somewhere entirely new, a place only Gabriel could manifest. His eyes fluttered closed. "Fuck," he groaned, and wondered if Gabriel felt this ethereal at all times.

Was being a blood drainer like that? Was it wonderful? Or was the pleasure solely for the willing humans who stuck their necks out for sharp canines and cold lips? 

The brooding and quiet monster mentality differentiated with it being a wonderful experience, but, of course, Jack didn't know what it felt like to be murdered by an angry mob of townspeople. Perhaps he'd be brooding and moody, too, if he experienced such horrific things. However, he could only assume such things, as he'd never met the other cursed blood drainers, their personalities still a mystery to him.

Then, a second thought: were all the cursed as gentle, loving, perfect as Gabriel? He couldn't imagine another being like the man cradling him close, dipping him as though they were protagonists of a romantic sonnet.

When lips and teeth carefully detached themselves from his skin, Jack groaned with the loss, craving the intoxication that came with it, and finally opened his eyes. Though his gaze was blurred and wavering from pleasure, he could see Gabriel still hovering slightly above him - and this... _this_ moment always stirred his erection the most.

Gabriel, eyes blown black with lust, chest panting. Mouth covered in dripping gore. _His_ blood. As Jack gaped up at him, Gabriel's tongue slipped languidly across his bottom lip, licking the red slick with a low, gruff moan that made his world white out. The way he moaned - outright moaned - like he'd never tasted something so sweet and delectable as his blood, like he'd been starving until he tasted Jack again.

It rendered him helpless each year.

The sound so heady, honest.

Gabriel, so... _so_.

Need slammed into him like he'd landed face first on the cobblestone streets outside, knocking the wind from his lungs, and yet, giving him the strength to lunge forward, wrapping his arms around Gabriel's neck and slamming their mouths together in a world shattering crash. His mouth slicked in his own sanguine; he should have found that disgusting, but no - no! Instead, provocation and sensuality filled the air and his gut, egging him on to more things he typically wouldn't do.

Gabriel, though, obviously hadn't been expecting the kiss, as he sat motionless for a moment, his hands still attempting to hold his shoulders - but Jack ignored that, in lieu of tilting his head to trail the tip of his tongue along Gabriel's sharp fangs, lapping any remnants of his blood, _tasting_ himself. 

Metallic and bitter, mixed with Gabriel's own strangely sweet saliva, he swallowed what little he could find, before pulling away and peering up at Gabriel through thick lashes.

Gabriel looked entranced. Speechless. Eyes wide and lips parted. As motionless as stone.

"What's wrong?" Jack whispered. "Did you not like it?"

Gabriel blinked, then slowly pushed away, separating the two of them completely. Jack felt the immediate cold of the room swallow him, as Gabriel stalked away on heavy boots, to one side of the room, turning his back. He stayed there for a moment, before moving on to one of the windows, then to the other side of the room. 

It took a bleary-eyed and slightly drunk Jack several heartbeats to realize he was _pacing._ Hands behind his back, head down, pacing.

Like an anxious human.

The scene looked so strange, Jack could only watch with morbid curiosity, left standing in a sea of candles, dick hard, lips wet with his own blood, as a man he met each year to fornicate with... paced. He had no idea what to do. Or to say. In the four years since their rendezvous began, he'd never seen anything quite like this before; typically, he walked into the tower and immediately had his clothes stripped, blood drank, and the rest of the night, he was on the floor, spellbound into multiple orgasms.

But anxiety?

This was new.

Heavy steps headed towards the center of the room now, coming to a stop at the pile of velvets and pillows.

Just as Jack was about to speak up again, Gabriel turned his attention towards him like a searing hot fire. Jack had but a moment before that black mass came stomping towards him, quick and large and strong - he attempted to take a step back, but Gabriel had other ideas, crowding into his space, hands grabbing his forearms, and just stared down at him.

"Gabriel?" he eeked.

"Come with me."

The silence in the room became deafening. Jack could hear his own blood roaring in his ears, so loudly, he thought he heard it echoing off the tower's chambers. It must've been absolutely thunderous to the cursed standing before him.

Several seconds passed, before he realize, oh, he must have misheard him. "What?" he whispered.

"When I leave, after the Hallows, come with me. Be mine."

"Be you- _Gabriel_!" Jack found the grip on his forearms and carefully pulled them, one finger at a time, off, and stepped away. "I'm a human."

"I can change that," Gabriel rushed out, reaching for him again, but Jack evaded his grasp. "I can - I can turn you. I want to turn you-" He gestured his hands out at the candles and the roses, the velvets and silks. "That's why I did all these things tonight. I wanted to ask you first, before anything else happened."

"You've thought about this?"

"Since I first tasted you," came the sheepish whisper.

His heart stopped altogether, knocking his soul clean from his mortal coil. This had to be a dream. How many times had he heard those exact words after he fell asleep for the night? He wanted to spend eternity with him, he knew it was rash after spending a mere four nights together, but some part of him felt like he'd known Gabriel for hundreds of years. Since time began, their souls had been bonded. It sounded ridiculous, but he told these things to himself every night as he thought of that handsome face.

He'd been thinking about it for four years, too. 

Mayhaps even before that. 

The first second they kissed in the dark alleyway, Jack felt a space fill he hadn't realized was empty. He'd found something he hadn't known he was looking for, but now that he was there, in that occupied space, he selfishly wanted to keep him there forever, stole away and hidden from the rest of the world. 

He did want to be Gabriel's for eternity.

"You don't have to answer me right now," Gabriel spoke again, his tone full of desperation. "You have all night, but I ask of you... _Please_, consider it, Jack." His gloved hands reached out for him again, but this time, Jack didn't run away. Nimble fingers skittered across his jawline, sending shivers through him down to his fingertips, and cool leather cupped his chin.

A thumb stroked along his bottom lip, pausing long enough to pull ever so slightly on it, parting his lips.

Jack considered his handsome face as Gabriel's gaze locked onto his mouth. His brow sat furrowed, his eyes holding a sadness he could not bare looking at, a muscle clenched in his jaw. He swallowed hard and pulled in a shaking, painful breath. "Does it... does it hurt?"

"Hmm?" Gabriel hummed.

"Changing. Does it hurt?"

His head tilted sideways, brow releasing from it's straight line of anxiety. "I am unsure," he admitted. "Our changing was not the norm. We died, and then we changed with the curse. Us giving someone else the curse is entirely different."

A rock dropped into the pit of his stomach, heavy and foreboding. "Have you turned someone before?"

"Never," Gabriel answered quickly. "Never, but Angela has."

"Angela?"

"The Ziegler Witch." A small smile formed on the corners of Gabriel's mouth, and Jack wondered what kind of person the witch was to bring such fondness to a man filled with brooding hatred - she must be something far more special than the legends recounted. "She turned the boy she fell in love with. I believe he was a hero, like you."

The boy she fell in love with. Something about this new proclamation gave Jack a surge of bravery, enough so, he jumped closer to Gabriel, crowding into him. Because this was everything! This meant it was possible to turn a human! "And he is well and with her?"

Gabriel's smile only widened, into something rambunctious, mischievous, and, all at once, so in love. "They're _inseparable._"

His heart felt as though it were about to leap from his throat and land on the floor at the toes of Gabriel's boots. Excitement and anxiety filled him in such a rush, his cup runneth over and he couldn't stop himself from flinging his arms around the trench coat's thick collar in a messy embrace.

A laugh vibrated through Gabriel's chest, as his hands came up to encircle Jack's smaller waist. "I cannot guarantee it won't hurt you-" He pressed the gentlest of kisses against Jack's forehead, lingering longer than necessary so that warmth filled his heart and soul. "-but I can promise, I will hold you through it all. I will protect you. And I will stay with you forever, Jack."

As if he needed another reason to say yes.

"Make me yours, Gabriel," he finally whispered, dreamily.

A feral grin broke out across his partner's face.

And then, words fell by the wayside in a heated rush of hands and teeth and _promises_. Gabriel tore through Jack's clothing as if they were made of nothing at all, laying him bare and naked, dick standing to attention, in the warmth of the candles - the blood drainer stared at his body for several moments, growling low in the back of his throat, before dead lifting him clean off the ground and laying him upon the pile of luxuries. 

The velvets felt extravagant against his bare skin, already oversensitive with lust - the way it curled around his bare bottom made him feel rich and noble. He could get used to belonging to a cursed if it meant treatment like this. 

Gabriel stood above him and carefully, so slowly, began slipping out of his own clothes. His trench coat went first, falling heavily to the stone floors, revealing a white dress shirt that strained against his biceps, the fabric too thin to fully hide his muscular build, the shape of his core, the lines of his abdominal brawn. His dark skin shined through, rich and perfect. Jack swallowed the saliva building in his mouth. Holy Gods in Heaven, Holy layers of Hell. The man still stood before him fully clothed, and his restraint was quickly falling away like ashes in a bonfire.

How would he be able to control himself for the rest of eternity? When he could see his body and his face every single night, rather than just once a year? He feared he may burn alive in the sheer heat from it all.

Gloves and shirt fell next, fluttering softly to the ground and revealing his strapping figure in all its glory. The smattering of perfect, dark chest hair along toned pectorals, the darkness of his nipples standing proud and delicious to Jack's hungry gaze, the trail of pitch black curls disappearing into the waist band of leather breeches. The line where his obliques and abdominal muscle met made a perfect, strong V, peeking just enough from the top of his bottoms.

By the time Gabriel kicked off his boots and began unbuckling his trousers, Jack felt like he'd been set on fire. Lust took over his entire body and his hand closed around his burning erection, desperate to take even a little of the edge off - tearing his eyes from the lewd and sinful display before him felt nigh impossible, so all he could do was squeeze and breathe.

Fuck, why must he undress so slowly? "Hurry," Jack whined, tentatively slipping his hand up and down his cock just once. It did nothing but make the ache and the fire worse, so much so, it now crawled up his chest in a pink blush.

Gabriel chuckled, low and deep. "Patience, my beautiful. We have the rest of eternity."

Affection bloomed within his chest. Holy shit. This couldn't be real. He'd died and gone to Heaven - or whatever he'd be deemed fit to go, if he ever truly died as a Cursed. 

Finally, he pushed his breeches down in one fast, practiced movement.

The warm, heated blush along his chest blossomed into red hot heat, at the sight of the virility he dreamed of three hundred sixty four nights of the year. The most delectable sight his eyes could imagine. Jack Morrison was no stranger to sex and naked men, he'd had partners in his past, but none compared to the bobbing mass of lust standing before him. Thick as the palm of his hand, bobbing under its own weight until it hit the inside of Gabriel's thighs, Jack wanted to lick every single vein along the velvety, dark skin, kiss the purple, swollen head peeking beneath the folds. Dark curls whisped around the base, and he craved shoving his nose into them and smelling Gabriel in his rawest form.

Nothing seemed to get Gabriel out of his brooding shell like the sound of Jack choking as he thrust down his throat.

He hoped that never changed.

Gabriel's thick thighs boxed Jack in as he climbed atop him, closing them around his hips. They were massive and strong, like someone who did physical labor for years. Reminding him of farmhands from his home village, dead lifting bales of hay with bare hands. 

Confident palms swept up his torso. "You're beautiful."

"So are you," Jack whispered. More beautiful than anyone.

"Mmm, never heard that before." His hands moved further up, rough fingertips bumping against his nipples. Electricity shot to his dick like a punch. "You prepared for what I have to do?"

"You can do anything you want to me, Gabriel."

Gabriel placed a hand on the floor beside Jack's face, leaning his strong chest over him - up close, he smelled in a way he couldn't describe. His natural, heady musk mixed with the noble scented oils, it took everything in him not to bury his nose in the crook of his arm and inhale, because every single tiny detail of this man drove him absolutely mad. 

Body, strength, scent, face, the look in his eyes each time he pulled his mask off, his gentle hands, the way he fell further and further into affection as the night grew on. An enigma.

How anyone ever felt the need to kill a person so perfect and sweet, he would never know.

His own thoughts distracted him for so long, he didn't notice Gabriel lifting his other wrist to his own mouth until he heard a gruff grunt. Blinking back into reality, he saw Gabriel biting long canines into the thin skin of his wrist's underside.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

Gabriel removed his teeth. "Open your mouth."

"Open my-" Dark, almost black blood dripped down along Gabriel's tanned skin, before descending onto Jack's chest. It felt oddly warm against his skin, and then, he grasped the situation. He'd neglected to ask what the turning process entailed - and apparently that meant drinking the black blood of Gabriel. Of course, nothing involved would be too much. Jack would agree to anything he asked, including dying at his hands. "Alright," he breathed, letting that settle into his core. 

Drinking his blood would be a small price to pay for an eternity with this man. Hell, he'd licked his own blood just moments earlier, it couldn't be any different than that.

With trembling fingers, Jack took Gabriel's wrist in his hands and closed his lips around the open wound. At first, the blood spilling forth from the large lacerations filled his mouth too quickly, overflowing - he sputtered and coughed, feeling the warm vital fluid spill down his chin and chest in a thick river. The taste hit him next.

Sweet.

Sickeningly sweet.

So very unlike the bitter, metallic taste of his own human blood, this tasted addictive. Like the sweet wines of the western countries, thick as the honey farmed in the south, painting the insides of his mouth and throat in viscous liquid.

Panic reared up harsh and anew in his chest. His throat threatened to close up and block the liquid invading, but with several short, stringent breaths through his nose, he managed to calm himself and adjust, enough to tentatively swallow of his own volition. The syrupy substance slipped thickly passed his restraints and down, burning along the lining of his throat. It tasted and felt unlike anything he'd experienced before, his body wanted to deny it and spit it back forth, spew it upon the masonry at his sides, but he refused. He fought it.

He wanted to turn.

So, he swallowed and swallowed, everything Gabriel would give. Filling himself with curses and darkness until he felt close to vomiting from the sheer volume of it.

By the time Gabriel finally pulled his wrist away, he knew, without a doubt in his mind, he was absolutely covered in the gore of his lover. He felt it cooling on his chest, his neck, his face and chin, lips painted wet with it. Heavy breaths panted forth from him, wild eyes found the blood drinker hovering above him, staring down at him with wide, completely black eyes. "Was that enough?" he panted.

"I - I think so - _fuck_." Gabriel settled backwards on his heels, releasing some of the weight on Jack's hips and thighs. As he moved, blood dribbled in a messy line down Jack's stomach and down his erection. The heat shot through his flagging dick, bringing it to a whole new hardness that ached and hurt.

Jack whined, his eyes following the path of gore until it landed on Gabriel's hand; it hovered in the air for a split second, before it wrapped around the length of his girth, lazily sweeping up and down, stroking slow and long. His gaze glued itself to the scene, watching as the remnants of his thick sanguine slicked across the length, lubing it up in an obscene and debaucherous way. Jack felt fairly certain Gabriel had no idea it was even happening, but by all the Gods in Heaven, for some unforeseen sinful reason, it made Jack's insides scream to be filled and fucked, have Gabriel's sweet, cursed blood in every single part of him.

Swallowing hard, he laid his hands on Gabriel's thighs. "Is there anything else we have to do?" Talking felt like such an effort, just choking out any conceivable sentence through his thick, uncontrollable cloud of hunger. He was nearly choking on it, because he didn't want to speak anymore. He wanted Gabriel to slam that massive, blood soaked cock deep into his throat until he choked and drooled and _cried_.

He yearned to swallow his seed and his essence and everything else, until his insides were painted with Gabriel and nothing but Gabriel, every single inch, every single wall.

"No, but it will take a couple hours." Gabriel's hand was moving faster now and his words came out bitten and struggled. "You look beautiful covered in my blood."

"Mmm, is that so?" That only spurred him on further. He had a thousand things running through his mind then, items he couldn't coalesce into a single coherent thought, but they all had a common end goal: his hands moved of their own volition. He swiped two fingers through the pool of blood on his chest. It remained thick and wet, dripping down the digits; he couldn't believe how perfect the consistency was, and his hands trembled when he reached down to his own awaiting hole. The muscles twitched beneath his touch as he slicked around the gore, wetting himself, took a deep breath, and plunged two fingers all at once as deep as he could manage. The tightness ached, pain stabbed deep in him, but he was so achingly turned on, nothing could deter him and the discomfort just spurred him on further, made his dick ache harder.

After All Hallow's, he often returned to whatever place he called home at the time and dreamt each night of the monster they called Dracula. In the privacy of empty inn rooms, he fucked himself on his fingers to completion, but it was never as satisfying as he craved, and he couldn't simply walk outside and be with another man. For the love of everything unholy, he'd been ruined on other human men.

Now, though, stretching himself on two fingers while the object of his obsession watched on, it felt _good_. Even just his fingers brought a sick sort of satisfaction that had him biting down on his lip, peering up at Gabriel through thick, blonde eyelashes.

And Gabriel stood above him, looking dazed and hungry - hungrier than he'd ever looked before, blood lust and gluttony swimming in his dark gaze. The sheer look on his face grabbed his heart and squeezed until he couldn't breathe. Holy shit, his hand stuttered as he carefully pulled his fingers out - he felt the wet slide against his inner walls.

Knowing it was Gabriel's blood painting him from within brought another moan up from the deep cavern of his chest.

He wanted so many things, all at once, and couldn't voice his needs from the sheer amount of need coursing through his veins. 

"Dear God," Gabriel's gruff voice filled the silence of the room. He squeezed his erection tightly until his knuckles turned white.

"Ha-" Jack laughed through a pant. "God?"

Gabriel shuffled forward on his knees, rounding behind Jack and his pile of silk pillows, and Jack tilted his head backward to watch his every move. "You're making me invoke the names of Gods I no longer believe in." A large hand wrapped itself around the front of Jack's neck, squeezing just enough to spike through Jack's dick, making it twitch against his stomach, and Gabriel bowed his head until his lips were touching Jack's ear. "I'm starting to think you aren't a human at all, hero."

"Hmm? Then what am I?"

"A succubus, perhaps." Gabriel leaned away, taking his thick cock in his hand again. "A witch, maybe." He gently pressed the thick crown against Jack's lips; he immediately dropped his jaw open, fingers moving a little faster. "However, I know what you are now."

"What?" Jack gasped.

"_Mine_." 

The thick, warm crown pushed passed his lips in a slow drag, filling his mouth, pressing against his tongue, deeper. Deeper. His entire body stilled during the movement, his fingers no longer pumping in and out, he just laid back and languidly allowed Gabriel to move him and push into him how he wanted. The hand around his throat held him down, completely at his mercy, the strength in just the fingertips too much for him to fight against.

And fuck, that draped him in a serene curtain of viscid seduction.

Jack shoved a third finger deep into himself until the ache returned. It still wasn't enough, what he wanted, but this, tasting him - it was good, too. So, so good.

The head of Gabriel's cock struck the back of Jack's throat, which sputtered and spasmed around the intrusion. Drool collected in his mouth as his gag reflex began violently fighting against the girth.

The slow slide stopped, and Gabriel gently petted his fingers along his throat. "Just relax," he whispered, voice like wine and silk, urging him into a dreamlike, sleepy state. He drew in a deep breath from his nose and forced his body to loosen up, tilted his head further until his throat felt more opened and pliant, and the cock easily slipped in the rest of the way. "_Fuck,_ good boy." Gabriel pulled back and rolled his hips, grinding back into his throat. Jack moaned desperately around him, unsure if from the delicacy of his length or the compliments.

Something about the way he showered him softly with compliments and affection felt differently than any other man who'd said a single word to him by way of romance or flirting. Nothing compared to the way he called him good boy, called him perfect. Maybe that was what kept him coming back every year, for the feeling of belonging and affection.

Gabriel leaned forward, dropping a hand against the floor beside Jack's ribcage, draping himself carefully over his splayed out body. Jack wondered what he was doing, until he felt the second hand grab his wrist and yank his fingers out - a whine slipped from his throat at the sudden loss, curling around the intrusive cock still making gentle thrusts. He quickly replaced them, though, with a deep groan, shoving three thick digits deep inside his loose and blood soaked entrance.

Jack's back arched, Gabriel thrust deeply with fingers larger than Jack's own. They reached places he couldn't, fucked him in a way only Gabriel could.

Moan after moan rolled from his filled throat, spurring the fingers to move faster and faster. Gabriel thrust his cock harder, pulling out and pushing back in completely, knocking the wind from him, but only making his manic noises harder. They reached a crescendo when the fingers hooked and hit that spot - that _fucking_ spot Gabriel found every single time. His vision whited out and he squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body trembling beneath the hulking mass of body atop him.

Pleasure flushed through him like a tidal wave. He ground his hips down against Gabriel's hand, pants and gaps and cries mixed with the obscene, sloppy sound of the dick thrusting into his drooling mouth. Heat pooled in his groin in a hot, sick puddle, fingers still relentlessly fucking against that spot. He climbed higher and higher, higher and higher -

Until he was crying out muffled chants of Gabriel's name around his cock, practically screaming through a worn and aching throat. After a year of masturbation never quite being enough, having both entrances filled by the same glorious being felt like Heaven. Like far more than he deserved, so good, he wanted to cry and thank the Gods and beg for it to never stop.

As his sounds grew louder and his body thrashed against the velvets, Gabriel removed the fingers and wrapped his hand around Jack's own leaking and twitching dick, and just squeezed.

That was enough to send him over the edge.

His orgasm splashed into him so hard, he was pretty sure his soul left his body and hovered over the guard tower for several long moments. Distantly, he was very aware of his own body falling limp on the floor, eyes still closed, the sound of Gabriel chuckling gruffly meeting muffled ears, only vaguely conscious of his throat still taking each thrust and drag easily.

He remained floating for a long time, just breathing and trying to come back down, until Gabriel's hips stuttered and he slammed deep into Jack's mouth, spilling his seed down Jack's throat. It was white hot, painting his insides just the way he craved. If he hadn't just orgasmed, he probably would have the second he tasted that beautiful spend.

Gabriel slid his cock out and rose to his feet, leaving Jack an absolute wreck on the floor, finally coming back to his own consciousness enough to peer up at him in all his glory. Spotted with blood in various places, belonging to which one of them, he'd never know. Proud cock bobbing beneath its own weight, rock hard and red.

The strangest part of their relations was how alive and human Gabriel seemed during sex. His dick always felt warm and engorged, he developed blushes along his shoulders, and he had a sweet, strange seed that resembled a human's so much, Jack would never tell the difference, except Gabriel's tasted like the most addictive thing in the world.

Which vaguely made more sense now that he'd tasted his blood. They both had a similar sweetness, enslaving him in their own right like an expensive wine, a vice he couldn't shake.

As Gabriel peered down at him with eyes blown black and full of lust, muscles shimmering with sweat, it hit Jack hard.

He'd developed a _taste_ for Gabriel.

And he was far from sated. "Do you wish to stare at me all night, or will you fuck me, Gabriel?"

"I almost wish to stare at you," Gabriel whispered. "You are so... very... enchanting and _filthy_."

His gaze flickered down to his own body, finding cum pooling atop dried gore. Red stained his chest and stomach, his dick and inner thighs. He knew he probably had cum, blood, and drool all along his face as well. Pornographic and obscene didn't begin to cover how he must have looked in those moments, lying along the noble fabrics beneath him, legs spread and hole twitching for further fulfillment.

The best part, Gabriel seemed to be enraptured by it, his dick still standing to full attention. This made Jack want him more.

"I dare you to defile me more." Jack ran his palm down his chest and stomach, gathering his spend in dirtied fingers, swiping it slicky down his oversensitive dick. He hissed at the sensations, but bit it back in lieu of shooting a cocky glance at this man - his partner, now, in a way. 

"What?" came a sheepish whisper.

For someone as terrifying as The Dracula, he was awfully shy and innocent. "I dare you to cover me in blood and cum. I never want another man to touch me after you mark me."

His words seemed to paralyze Gabriel. For several long moments, he said nothing, didn't move, his chest no longer moving with heavy breaths. A strange air of sadness settled around him and his features, the heady haze of lust fading enough for Jack to see his usual, brooding face beneath it. He'd seen this particular face several times over four Hallows Nights, it was different than the white mask he wore in front of the villagers of Adlersbrunn, but the expression still existed as a mask nonetheless.

A cloak of pain and loneliness, honed over hundreds of years as a cursed and murdered man. Alone. 

Every once in a while, when Jack said something, the veil descended and covered his features. If Jack had to hazard a guess, he'd say it was a look of self deprecation. Gabriel through he wasn't good enough for Jack, because he was cursed or a monster, like the villagers had once said. Because he thought there was something wrong with him.

In the years prior, Jack just swallowed down his need to fight against it and let Gabriel battle it alone, because, what was he to do? They saw each other once a year, Jack had no rights to interfere with emotions he didn't understand.

This time, though.

The decorations weren't the only things different this Hallow's Eve.

Jack had a right to him now, now that he had been bitten and fed the blood of the cursed, now that Gabriel had asked him to be his for eternity. So he sat up quickly and grabbed the hand nearest to him. "Don't do that, Gabriel."

"Huh?" Unseeing, bleary eyes wildly glanced down at him. He looked like a feral animal blinded by a gigantic fire, terrified and ready to fight all at once.

"Acting like you aren't good enough." His legs shook beneath him, but he rose to his feet and crowded against Gabriel's chest, his free hand caressing the side of his sharp, strong jaw. "You asked me to be yours for eternity, did you not?"

A small nod beneath his palm.

"And I agreed, because I want to-" He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the tight line of his mouth. "I want to be with you forever. You will never be alone again, Gabriel."

"Never?" he whispered, barely audible.

"Never," he breathed.

And maybe, one day, after they'd been together for a few years, Jack would muster up the courage to ask why Gabriel developed that headlong, haunted stare, what happened that night he was cursed, so he could understand him better. He wanted to know why he felt so alone at the drop of a hat.

And maybe, one day, after Jack no longer knew how to live without Gabriel, he'd tell him some traumas of his own, such as why he had no family to return to, why he traveled alone and had never truly been in love.

One day, they would know each other inside and out, top to bottom, emotionally.

But, on that night, it wasn't time for that, and in some recessed area of their hearts, they both understood this. Their gazes met, understanding passed between them, silent promises were made - of love, of affection, to one day share their dark pasts. Then, Gabriel curled his fingers around Jack's hips, pressing bruises into the pale skin, and Jack tilted his head back, prostrating his neck, and words fell around them like ashes, no longer needed.

His teeth stung less this time, as he bit into the sensitive junction where his neck met his shoulder, Jack's entire body feeling light and numb and drunk on the cursed blood. He drank and drank, the familiar pull and tug making Jack's toes curl, eyes fluttering, sucking what he knew would be a harsh, bright purple mark into his milky white skin.

Gabriel grunted and yanked off, detaching himself from Jack long enough to spit a mouthful of blood into the palm of his own hand. Jack felt captivated as he watched that skillful tongue slip out between his lips and lap up his essence, slow and sensual. When Gabriel spoke again, his voice sounded husky and gruff, painfully erotic. "You wanted me to defile you, yes?"

"Y-yes," Jack gulped.

"On your knees." Gabriel slicked the pool of gore down the entire length of his heavy cock, until it shined bright red, dripping in thick drops from the purple, engorged head.

Jack allowed himself several seconds of appreciation before he dropped to his hands and knees on the velvet throws, feeling movement in tandem behind him.

Hands skittered up his hips, fingertips touching along his ribcage - pausing on what Jack knew to be old scars and bad memories. Each year, Gabriel did this, gently touching places Jack had been stabbed, hurt, and beaten, with hands so careful and affectionate. He never said a word as he did it, never asked where he got them or what situations led to these marrings on his skin.

Just grazed across them. Sad eyes inspecting them.

Just when Jack began sinking into the gentle touches, the fingertips suddenly became rough and grabbed his hips, yanking him backwards.

Gabriel slammed into him. No warning, no more preparations, and Jack cried out at the top his lungs, desperate voice echoing off the guard tower's stone walls, his hands fisting into the blankets until his knuckles turned white. And he gave no moments to adjust to the sudden heavy, thick cock pressing against every single part of him, shoving against the good spots - he simply pushed until he bottomed out.

And, oh, dear God, when Gabriel bottomed out, the world around him clicked in place like a puzzle piece. As though he had been given something he lost long ago, returned to him. He'd waited seasons upon seasons to have Gabriel this close to him again, buried deep, hips pressed against thighs, hands pressing bruises into milky hips. All those spots were filled and pressed, until it felt like his soul was complete and full in a way words could not describe.

If he were less of a hardened soldier, he thought he may have been reduced to tears at the sheer heavy blanket of emotion that fell across his shoulders.

Gabriel, though, ground down, deeper into Jack, hips pressed flush against him. The sensations edged just near painful, but it made him moan in a pathetic way, because he wanted it to hurt.

He wanted it to hurt more.

He wanted more.

It wasn't enough.

"More?" Gabriel whispered, huffing through a deep groan as he pulled all the way out again. And Jack hadn't realized he'd been spewing his words aloud in a desperate string.

He must've sounded absolutely pathetic and small, draped beneath this massive hulk of a cursed man.

A strong hand wrapped around his throat and yanked him upward, until he was balancing precariously on his knees, at the mercy of Gabriel. His cock still buried deep within him, now felt larger, thicker, too much, with the sudden change of position. Jack could scarcely catch his breath, especially when Gabriel pressed gentle kisses to the shell of his ear and fucked into him in earnest, punching any feasible breath from his lungs. That cock felt bigger than it ever had before.

"Greedy, aren't you?" Gabriel's breath ghosted across his sweating skin. 

Jack whined, shaking his head.

Gabriel stilled, body pressed flush against Jack's bottom. "Come now, you can tell me what you want. I will do anything for you."

The stillness of that massive erection wasn't enough. Whining deep in the back of his throat, he ground down against it, searching for some semblance of friction to take the edge off.

How was this possibly not enough? Maybe it was the cursed blood filling him, reacting strangely in his chemical makeup, but it felt like it had lit an entire fire within his veins, begging for Gabriel to wreck him, fulfill him, paint him and own him.

The fingers on his throat tightened, edging just on cutting his air off. He whined. "Gabriel," he whispered, and tried again to grind down, but Gabriel's grip on him held him still flush against his body.

"I want to hear you." 

Jack attempted to respond, but his vision wavered with the grip on his airways, so his response came out as a blubbering mess.

Coherent thoughts also disappeared out the window, as he tossed his head back and cried out desperate, broken sentences. A slew of curses and reverent cries of Gabriel's name, he felt as though he were reciting a sermon. He'd never felt closer to the heavens than in these moments, each year; he'd never believed in religion or Gods of any kind after the atrocities he witnessed in his lifetime, but when he felt that burn, that pain, and the harsh fingers on his throat, with the strength to kill him if Gabriel so pleased, he had never been closer to God.

"What was that, beautiful?" Gabriel's other hand slipped around, Jack felt it brush against his thigh, before cool fingers closed around his dick - which had previously flagged after it's first release. It had begun to harden again, but the touch tipped him over the edge of overstimulation.

He cried out at the grip.

Gabriel hummed, pleased in his ear. "Is that so?" His fingers curled tighter around his growing erection, lazily stroking just ever so slightly - enough to cause shivers to course through him like electricity.

The grip on his throat tightened in tandem. Breath effectively cut off, rendering him helpless and useless, mouth agape on ghosts of gasps, unable to do anything but rock back on the thick cock buried deep in him.

This small motion, of course, did nothing but make him hungrier.

Nothing but work him up into a frizzy.

Between the relentless strokes on his dick and his lack of oxygen, Jack's vision began blotting out all around him, the candlelight greying along the edges. Shit, he'd blacked out enough in his lifetime to know what was about to happen.

His body sagged against Gabriel's chest, a vicious sob attempting to wrench passed the finger vices pressing into his jugular. Through the fog growing around him, he thought he felt tears on his cheeks; his haze silenced out all other sensations beyond the hands stroking him, holding him, choking him. He couldn't feel anything but Gabriel.

Did anything exist outside anymore? Were they the only people left alive?

"Shh, it's okay." Gabriel released the hold from his throat.

Cool air whooshed into his lungs. Feeling flooded through his body in such a heedy explosion, sensations, sound, everything lurching into his gut so hard, a second, weaker orgasm shook through him. He felt weak drops of release fall to velvet beneath his knees, and Gabriel's rough fingertips quickly swept away anything he could catch.

Stroking it along Jack's spent dick again until he hissed with pain - too much, too soon.

Pulling back with a small chuckle, Gabriel held a boneless Jack with a strong hand on one shoulder-

And slammed back into him.

This time, Jack did scream.

Gabriel fucked into him like a man who would never see tomorrow. Desperate and uncontrollable, fast and hard and deep. It was more than it had ever been in the years prior, and Jack felt tears fall f definite down his heated cheeks.

His cries reached a staccato he was sure everyone in Adlersbrunn could hear through their shuttered windows.

"Fuck," that gravelly voice swore, tight and bitten off. "Jack-"

"More." His voice left his lips before he knew what he was saying, what repercussions he would have.

The manic thrusts stuttered. "What? More?" A surprised laugh rumbled from Gabriel's chest, rumbling deep in its strong cavern. "You surprise me each second we are together," he whispered. "Is that truly what you want?"

"Yes," he panted.

Hands immediately began manipulating him around, pressing him down onto the floor and into the silks, fingertips threading into his hair until he was pressed face down in the pillows, the other on one hip. A knee nudged his legs apart until he was spread wide and vulnerable in front of Gabriel.

The large cock shoved deep into him again, and Jack pliantly took every inch as he bottomed out in seconds, then started up a mind numbing pace. Pounding relentlessly with so much strength, Jack thought he could feel it into his soul.

His strokes were so long and precise.

Full.

Powerful.

He felt helpless being held down by him. He felt small, with that large hand gripping his hair and holding him down - something about it made a moan spill from his lips.

When Jack had asked for more, he had no idea Gabriel could supply like this. He truly had never been fucked like this before - he wasn't sure if anyone ever had. It felt as thought he was the first person to ever be so thoroughly made love to, he couldn't stop the lump growing in his throat.

"Gabriel," he sobbed.

A particularly long stroke knocked him clean from his body. Floating in a dreamlike state, words escaped him to describe his feelings coursing through him, how close he felt to Gabriel, how full he felt. He could distantly hear his own cries through the blood roaring in his own ears, and Gabriel panting and groaning softly behind him.

His pace increased, if that were even possible. Harder, until the slaps of their lovemaking filled the guard tower, ricocheting off the masonry walls in a deafening volume.

This seemed to spur Gabriel on further, too.

Until he was fucking into Jack with such a manic rush and vicious pace, Jack white knuckled the velvets beneath him, mouth spewing blabber that could have been any number of words. Perhaps Gabriel's name. Perhaps begging for more. Maybe he'd confessed his love for the cursed Dracula.

He thought he heard himself sobbing against the pillows, but he could hardly bring himself to pay attention and care, too lost in being fucked out of consciousness.

Because now, his toes were curling as the thrusts became erratic, pounding into places and at angles he hadn't been doing moments before. The hands holding him down were bruising.

With a shout and a sob mingling together, Gabriel buried himself as deeply as possible inside Jack. "Fuck!" Gabriel's cock violently pulsed his seeds, painting inside every inch of Jack. Just like he wanted. Filling and owning him in the most filthy and obscene way.

This time, he cried for a completely indescribable reason. His body covered in everything Gabriel.

His soul now belonged to him, too. He hadn't noticed in his haze of lust, but in the afterglow, he felt something tugging in his hearts, soaring through his veins. Gabriel's name sang through his bloodstream.

Drinking in his essence had done something. Bonded them, perhaps.

The missing piece that existed in his heart felt full for the first time in his entire life.

And it struck him.

The quiet, stifled sobs and sniffles he'd heard in the background this entire time - were not from himself. They were resonating from behind him, from the man with trembling fingers still gripping his hips. Emotions suffocating the two of them.

All at once, he understood.

Gabriel was feeling everything he felt, too. 

The bond.

The commitment.

Suddenly, Jack's vision wavered. For a second, he thought he'd finally blacked out, because the things appearing in front of him looked like similar to a hazy dream, but these things were not scenes or places he recognized from his own memories.

A strange building built of all creaky wood, a stage to the back of the place with a velvet curtain. A beautiful, blonde haired woman screaming, a large man with green face paint reaching out for a smaller man wearing some strange white smock, both yelling words he couldn't hear. A woman in a strange, intricate creature costume, running for the door.

Then, he was running for the door as well, as flames burst through the barred windows all around them, licking up into the rafters. He could feel the heat blistering along his skin, sizzling in his hair. 

Pain resonated everywhere.

Outside the barred windows, people stood in the empty, night darkened streets. Watching. Letting them burn. Distantly, he heard the yelling from a few of the more rambunctious villagers.

_"Freak!"_

_"Burn for your sins!"_

_"You will never harm my boy again!"_

This last horrific sentence came from an older man, gruff in nature, standing with his arm around the shoulders of a younger man, with blonde hair and fair skin, a cloak draped close to his body, probably close to Jack's own age.

Gabriel stretched his arm out the window as far as he could, heat building along his back. "Help!" His fingers were pointed for this mystery young man.

The man sheepishly looked at whom Jack guessed was his father.

Before turning away.

Jack quickly discerned the situation.

Loneliness crushed him like a sword through the chest.

And everything made sense. The distant sadness that sometimes overtook Gabriel's beautiful face, his quiet brooding, and why the accursed group continued to return to this village and exact revenge, even centuries after the original incident.

The stories... had been true. Some part of him always wondered if they were just myths, ravings of old people, passed down from generation to generation, getting lost in translation sometime along the way. But, no. He couldn't deny what stared him right in the face now, and the sickness that swelled in his core from the realization - the heroes were hired to fight a group of people whom had been murdered in cold blood because they had been different in whatever way the villagers saw. 

Including Gabriel, simply for falling in love.

Their sobs mingled together now, Jack's tears falling in a torrent.

They tangled together like a crash of weapons.

Jack removed himself from underneath Gabriel's lax hold and tossed his arms around his shaking body.

Eventually, whilst rolling in the arms of his lover, wiping tears and careful whispers of _it's okay, I understand, I'm here_, the inevitable came. The effects of changing. His skin broke out in a scorching fever and pain enveloped his body in white hot waves. He could feel the infection, the curse, coursing through him; it was not nearly as bad as he feared, chalking up to no worse than the time a stab wound became infected and Ana spent four days trying to keep him alive. Though those few days had been quite a blur, he remembered the feeling that coursed through him, the nausea and the pain and the fevers and chills.

The curse felt exactly the same. Luckily, though, this was far different solely because he had strong arms wrapped around him, telling him he would be alright, kissing his closed eyelids and along his shoulder, riding the waves with him. When the pain subsided, Gabriel looked at him with such affection and love, caressed his face, and whispered, "It is over, and you are mine now."

Before they left, hand in hand, Jack placed a note on Ana's tavern room door.

_I'm with Dracula._

_I'm sorry._

_I will see you again._

_Love, Jack._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for what you just read, but I really enjoyed myself writing this. When I started writing this, I said, "Aw, this is gonna be romantic." And then I got halfway through and realized, it's debaucherous and I have no idea how this happened. We getting into some kinks, my dudes, and I'm not even sorry. (I'm a little sorry.) P.S. This was originally supposed to come out on Halloween, but as I am in the process of buying a house and I've been stressed and busy, this is now coming out in Thanksgiving season. I hope you liked reading it!!! 
> 
> Come scream at me on Twitter: [HollyLeighannee.](https://twitter.com/HollyyLeighanne)  
Or buy me a coffee! [Ko-fi.](ko-fi.com/hollyleighanne)


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